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YE blessed Creatures, I have heard the call
Ye to each other make; I see

The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,

My head hath its coronal,

The fulness of your bliss, I feel I feel it all.
Oh, evil day! if I were sullen
While the Earth herself is adorning,
This sweet May morning;

And children are pulling

On every side,

In a thousand valleys far and wide,

Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm:—

I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!

But there's a Tree, of many, one,

A single Field which I have looked upon,

Both of them speak of something that is gone:
The Pansy at my feet.

Doth the same tale repeat:

Whither is fled the visionary gleam?

Where is it now, the glory and the dream?

WORDSWORTH.

[graphic]

A CALM EVENING.

Ir is a beauteous Evening, calm and free:
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;

The gentleness of heaven is on the sea:
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,

And doth with his eternal motion make

A sound like thunder-everlastingly.

Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear'st untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature therefore is not less divine:
Thou liest "in Abraham's bosom" all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.

WORDSWORTH.

[graphic]

Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead : The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, Healthful and strong; full as the summer rose Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid, Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek. E'en stooping age is here; and infant hands Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll. Wide flies the tedded* grain; all in a row Advancing broad or wheeling round the field, They spread the breathing harvest to the sun, That throws refreshful round a rural smell; Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, And drive the dusky wave along the mead, The russet haycock rises thick behind,

In order gay; while heard from dale to dale, Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice Of happy labour, love, and social glee.

THOMSON.

* Tedded, tossed, or spread about in the sun; to tede grass.

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